Blut: A Poem in English and German

I have cleaned up

your bloody Antlitz three times.

That is two times too many.

Blood rieselte from your head
over your face, down your neck.

Your shirt was zerrissen,

your suit was befleckt.

A purpurrot eye, swollen face.

I never want to clean your

Blut, ever again.

Tell me what you think!

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